


suburbia

by iitachiyama



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble, Light Angst, M/M, is this a drabble, it's kinda vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27416977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iitachiyama/pseuds/iitachiyama
Summary: atsumu pays his old home a visit.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	suburbia

Atsumu slowed down his car upon nearing his old home. He’d almost gotten lost amidst the several streets and colourful houses, but his memory proved to be better than he gave it credit for, so there he was.

He stepped out of the Chevy, a warm breeze caressing his face and blowing strands of hair across his face.

Being back in that place sent a strong feeling of nostalgia coursing through his veins. It used to be so warm and vibrant but to Atsumu, it was now cold and grey and tinged with the bittersweet taste of old memories.

Nothing much had changed. He’d driven by some of his previous neighbours and playmates (who probably wouldn’t recognize him at first glance, considering that the last time they saw him was when he was a high school kid with bright yellow hair and retainers). He remembered who they were. But they’d never kept in touch, so it wasn’t like he was updated with what went on in their lives.

_What was it that had brought him here?_

He kicked at the gravel under his shoes and stared at the wide patch of grass in front of him. If he tried hard enough, he would probably catch a glimpse of a ghost, a memory— a glimpse of twin boys running across the garden in an endless game of tag.

Atsumu wondered if his old friends ever thought of what might’ve become of him, of that loud young boy with the bunny teeth and the twin— if they’d ever opened the television at random and seen him in a game, or in an interview, if they’d ever travelled out of town and wondered why the _Onigiri Miya_ tarpaulins tugged at something at the back of their heads, if they’d ever tried to find them again after they left.

There really was no point asking himself all these questions, when he only had one he truly wanted an answer to.

He wandered around aimlessly. With every house and every street he walked past, memories, each unique in its own and different from the last, would pop up in his head one by one at random; it was like watching bits and pieces of his childhood unfold from an old vintage tape. He had a feeling that he could find his way around the area even with his eyes closed.

Paying no heed whatsoever to how dangerous it could be, Atsumu closed his eyes, forming a mental image in his head of how his surroundings looked like, and started walking. He walked and he walked and he _remembered_. His feet moved on their own accord, leading him down the path he had always known, down the path he had always taken.

_What was it that had brought him here?_

He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and hesitantly opened his eyes.

Atsumu looked up, and was met with the never-changing view of the playground he tirelessly visited practically everyday all those years ago. The leaves crunched beneath his feet and he trudged through the wet and dewy ground to make his way towards the swings— one of which he had a feeling would be occupied.

Kiyoomi sat on the swing, gripping lightly at the chains that held up the rough plastic seat. His head snapped up upon hearing the crunch and squelch of footsteps that signalled someone’s arrival. Kiyoomi’s eyes widened, mouth parted slightly— the only signs of surprise he was willing to show, even if it did feel as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Sakusa?” Atsumu called out tentatively.

An air of tension hung low between them, thick enough to almost be tangible. It tightened around Atsumu's throat, threatening to snap his body in half; seeing Kiyoomi had opened up a trunk of emotions he thought he had kept stored away safely in the dark corners of his heart.

 _What was it_ —

Who _was it that had brought him here?_

Kiyoomi remained silent, staring him down with a silent, indistinguishable expression, so Atsumu opted to take the spot on the swing beside him. He kicked at the dirt lightly, sending bits of dust up in the air.

Was he angry?

Atsumu could never tell with him. Kiyoomi had always been one to hold in his negative emotions and hide them behind a thick wall of quiet serenity that Atsumu had never learned to read.

“Why’d you come back?”

The swing stopped creaking. Atsumu bit his lip and looked down at his feet.

“To tie up loose ends,” he whispered.

“So that’s all I am. All that we are— all we _were._ ” Kiyoomi chuckled humourlessly. “Loose ends.”

Sighing in defeat, Atsumu looked up at the greying sky, as if he could find all the answers written across the heavy clouds in cursive print. How would he even begin?

Minutes seemed to stretch into eons. Both remained silent.

“You come back after, what— six? Seven years?” Kiyoomi kept his voice low and even. “And you have _absolutely nothing_ to say?”

Every word struck Atsumu like a knife to the gut. “I had to choose. Between you and my own future, I had to choose.”

“So you did.”

“I did,” he echoed. "It was my feelings or my future, Sakusa, and I wasn't ready to commit to something that was so far away."

Kiyoomi nodded once, his gaze lowering down to the ground. "I understand."

"I'm not sorry for choosing myself," Atsumu continued. "But I am sorry that there had to be a choice in the first place."

A beat of silence.

Kiyoomi spoke up.

"I still come here everyday, you know." He chuckled humourlessly. "Everyday, I visit this- this _stupid swing_ wishing that one day I'd take a step on the worn out pavement and see you sitting there."

Atsumu clutched at the rusted chains. "I never came back because I didn't think you'd want to see me after-"

"I know that we weren't together anymore, but you've always been my friend, Atsumu, of _course_ I still would've wanted to see you," Kiyoomi snapped, his voice breaking. "It hurt that you left because a part of me was clinging onto the hope that you'd at least visit, even if another part of me was sure you weren't coming back. I was angry for a while. I was so selfishly angry with you until I came to realise that I missed you more than I hated you. Until I realised I was more proud of you than I was resentful.

"Everytime you were on television, I would switch the channel. Or turn it off because it made me physically ache to look at you. But I couldn't bring myself to harbor any spite for you because it made me happy seeing how far you've come.

"Because even after everything, I still—" His words caught in his throat. "I still _care_."

Atsumu wiped at his face with a sleeve, sniffling silently. "I wanted to come back. Trust me, I did, but I was afraid of what I'd come back to. If I had anything to come back to."

"You'll always have something to come back to as long as I'm here," Kiyoomi mumbled.

_Who was it that had brought him here?_

"I said I came by to tie up loose ends, didn't I?" Atsumu stood up and dusted off invisible dust from his cargo pants.

"Oh."

"That came out wrong," he said quickly, fumbling for the right words. "I wanted to tie up loose ends. And maybe we can start again."

Kiyoomi blinked once.

"It's up to you," Atsumu continued carefully. "You make the choice this time."

Twice.

"It's okay if you don't, Sakusa, really. I'll understand-"

Kiyoomi cut him off before he started rambling. "Don't be ridiculous."

Before Atsumu could come up with a coherent response, Kiyoomi went on. "What I _mean is that_ — it would be okay. Maybe things can be better now."

 _Maybe_ we _can be better now_.

"Really?" Atsumu looked twelve different shades of hopeful.

"You're still my best friend, after all," Kiyoomi said, offering him a hesitant smile. "Much to my misfortune."

Atsumu, in the spur of the moment, nearly knocked Kiyoomi off the swing in an attempt to wrap his arms around him.

"I missed you. Omi-omi."

Kiyoomi tightened his hold on the back of Atsumu's shirt, tears falling from his eyes. It never really occurred to him the extent of just how much he missed him too, not until he was in his arms again.

"Welcome home, Atsumu."

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i got the idea to write this fic when i was listening to [suburbia by troye sivan](https://open.spotify.com/track/5PoWbm2gxIIgg7Ykx9oY8S). it's kind of short and i'm not really sure about the pacing, but thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!
> 
> if you have any thoughts or input on this fic, feel free to comment or find me on twitter ([@iitachiyama](https://twitter.com/iitachiyama)) <3


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